


Drink From His Heart

by Godell



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Splash Free, Arranged Marriage, Assassins & Hitmen, Bodyguard Romance, Drought, Intrigue, M/M, Same-Sex Marriage, bodyguards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godell/pseuds/Godell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Water is scarce in Iwatobi. Tachibana Makoto has been sent to be Prince Rin's husband to escape death. Unfortunately, there are many who wish for Prince Rin to never marry, especially not someone from Iwatobi. With multiple assassination attempts, a mysterious warrior who outswims sharks for money, and Prince Rin's attempts to get water to Iwatobi with Makoto's help, it seems that "escaping death" may be harder than first expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drink From His Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hallo! As you can probably guess, "Drink From His Heart" is based off the Ending Theme. Because of the obviously-different circumstances surrounding these characters, I do hope that the characters are all in-character regardless. 
> 
> Also, there is no set time-period in place. Rifles haven't been invented yet, but irrigation is in place (at least in Samezuka).

Makoto took a deep breath—his throat already felt parched—and looked the feeble old man straight in the eye. “I’m sorry, sir. We still have no water to give you.”

The old man turned to look at Makoto’s mother, as was right, to confirm the decision. She nodded sadly.

“But Merchant Tachibana—my family, the little ones will die…” The old man bowed as low as he possibly could, his bones creaking and cracking as he prostrated himself in front of Makoto’s mother. “I’ll give you anything, even my finest rugs…”

“We truly are sorry,” said Merchant Tachibana, as the twins Ren and Ran ushered the old man out of the bazaar. The sun slowly sank behind the gray city walls. “But we’re just as parched as you.”

The old man slumped away without another word, looking as wretched as every other customer Makoto had seen for the past six months. Ren and Ran wandered back to the shady wagon that was a part of their bazaar. Makoto felt his heart sink as he remembered how they used to run laughing through the streets when the rains would come, the water splashing into their smiling mouths and trickling through their hair.

“Big brother,” said Ran, coughing feebly, “is there _really_ no more water in Iwatobi?”

Makoto smiled reassuringly at his little sister, even though he knew water would be scarce for a long time. “There will be. Soon.”

“Big brother,” said Ren, pointing to a faded map of the world pinned to the wagon wall, “look, there’s a lake right over there! Can’t we go?”

Makoto sighed. “I wish we could. But that ‘lake’ is an ocean, filled with salt water. There are other places, but it would take a long time to travel to any of them.”

Ren frowned and slumped against the wall. “I wish we could go. I don’t want to live here anymore.”

Someone cleared their throat, and Makoto turned to find Merchant Tachibana standing near the door.

“I do have plans to send us to safer places,” she said, pulling them all close to her. “There’s nothing left for us here. Ran and Ren, you will go with me to the seaport Hamasaki.” She nodded to Makoto and added “Don’t worry, the people there know how to purify the water to make it drinkable. You two are good at finance, and you’ll be apprenticed to a banker. And Makoto…”

“Yes?” Makoto’s eyebrows rose. He had no idea what was coming, but he hoped it would be good.

“I’ve arranged for you to go to the principality of Samezuka, to be married to Prince Rin.”

Makoto gaped. Out of all the things he had expected, that was definitely not it. “But Mother, Prince Rin is a hedonist who swipes away virgins in the dead of night and dances in showers of water, wasting it—”

“That’s gossip, Makoto,” Merchant Tachibana said sternly. “He _does_ enjoy the finer things in life. However, he needs a husband from Iwatobi in order to sustain balance between our lands, and since we’re as near to nobility as anyone in Iwatobi, he chose you. I just want you all to be safe, Makoto.”

Makoto frowned and mulled it over. _It would give all of us a taste of fresh water, and safety. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad…_

“Alright,” Makoto said, steeling himself.

“Big brother, where are you going?” Ren and Ran asked, clinging to his robes. “We can’t go without you!”

“I’m sorry, but it looks like you’ll have to,” Makoto said, hugging them both close. “I’ll be sure to visit you when I can.” _If I can._

“Be safe,” Merchant Tachibana said, hugging him close. “You’ll need to leave as soon as possible—there will be a lockdown of the city soon.”

“I love you, Mother,” said Makoto, wishing things were different. But he knew that his family would be safe, and that was enough.

\--- 

The stables were nearly empty—only two camels remained. The weakest (and cheapest) camel had gone to “a man with a dead look in his eyes”, according to the stableman. The remaining two camels were perfectly fit—and incredibly expensive.

Regardless, Makoto had plenty of money, and picked a not creatively named camel, Kobu. Kobu had his revenge on whoever named him by spitefully spitting on anything within distance, Makoto included. Makoto didn’t mind, as long as Kobu got him where he was supposed to go.

“You have a fellow traveler,” said the stableman with a grin, gesturing to a man waiting near the city gates with a camel of his own.

The man was dressed very drably, his clothing the color of sand from head to toe, except for his turban, which was yellow like Makoto’s. His eyes were the color of sand, too—or at least, they seemed that way from beneath his veil. His brown boots were pointed and rather well-worn and comfortable-looking.

“Good evening,” said the man, sounding muffled but cheerful behind his scarf. “You must be Makoto Tachibana. You have your mother’s green eyes.”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Makoto, feeling at ease. “And what’s your name?”

“Nantoka,” said the man—an obvious alias if Makoto ever heard one, but he knew that many people traveled with aliases in troubled times.

“…Shall we go?” Makoto asked, after a rather awkward pause.

“Yes,” said Nantoka, and they climbed onto their camels and set off.

The moon shone brightly in the night sky as the stars made their debut, making the sand dunes gleam like salt as they made their way to Samezuka. They could clearly see the camel prints left by other travelers not too long ago dotting the sand, along with the occasional slithering snake track. Makoto wondered whether the people of Iwatobi would vanish into the sands by the time he and Nantoka made it to Samezuka.

 _I’ll worry about that later,_ Makoto told himself, though he thought he would be too busy to worry much.

With thousands upon thousands of stars to light their way, the two travelers crossed the silent dunes.

Makoto, nearly lulled to sleep by Kobu’s gait, broke the silence. “Are you from Samezuka?”

“Yes,” said Nantoka, his tone neither proud nor ashamed. “There will be water there beyond your wildest dreams.”

“Why don’t they share it?” Makoto felt bitterness seep through his words. “The people of Iwatobi and others will die if there is no help for them!”

“Because the Nobles squabble—they’re petty and refuse to share the water. Princess Gou and Prince Rin has been trying for months to get them to cooperate.” Now Nantoka seemed ashamed and bitter.

“How do you know that?”

“Oh, you know, gossip travels as fast as wine to your head. And the Matsuoka family has had something of a difficult decade. First their mother died from a fever, then their father died of poison, and now Princess Gou is head of the government, and Prince Rin deals with keeping the Nobles in line. But everyone knows how young they are, and they feel they have to constantly assert their power. I imagine they must be very stressed.”

“I hear Prince Rin is a pleasure-seeker,” Makoto said, wondering what the mysterious Nobles were like. “And that he wastes water, and files his teeth…”

“He may well do all that, I don’t know,” said Nantoka, chuckling wryly. “But don’t worry—if Prince Rin can’t keep you safe, the palace guards will. Though considering how tall and brawny you are, that may not be a problem for you.”

Before Makoto could reply, Nantoka handed him his canteen. Makoto carefully took the canteen, admiring the smoothness and craftsmanship of the gourd. A blood-red tassel swung lazily from its neck.

“I can’t possibly—”

“No time for pleasantries.” Nantoka sounded more like a soldier than a well-informed traveler. “You’ve been living in a drought. Drink the water. Or do you want me to take it back?”

Makoto popped open the canteen and took a short sip. The water tasted sweet and cool and fresh, and it took all of his strength to not down the entire canteen. But he knew by now how to ration, and continued to take short sips.

“Thank you,” he said finally, as he handed back the canteen.

“Not a problem,” said Nantoka, and took a swig himself. He carefully stoppered the gourd.

Soon their talk changed from the politics of water, to songs, and soon they were loudly singing about the tales of lucky sailors who found love in far off lands, and of spicers who were granted three wishes by a _djinn_ and wasted them all on more spices. Makoto found himself laughing for the first time in what felt like years.

When the sun rose, they slept until nightfall, and then set off again taking advantage of the cool night air. The journey was shorter than Makoto had expected. Three days had passed when they reached Samezuka’s capital at dusk…and Makoto could only stare.

The walls of the capital were made of gleaming red sandstone, and the gold rooftops Makoto could see spiraled up like little iced cakes beyond the walls. The watchmen on the wall let them pass through without a problem. Nantoka led Makoto through silent city streets cobbled with sandstone, to the Grand Palace, which, as it turned out, was where the iced-cake roofs arose from. The palace was carved out of both marble and sandstone, the huge looming doors made of straightforward and sturdy iron.

“The baths are over that way,” Nantoka said, taking Kobu’s reigns as Makoto climbed off, his legs feeling incredibly sore. “I’ll take the camels to the stables. Unfortunately, I must leave you now. I have other things to take care of.”

Makoto nodded and shook Nantoka’s hand in farewell. “It was good to travel with you,” he said, noting suddenly that Nantoka’s eyes seemed a little darker than usual, almost red.

“And you,” said Nantoka. “I hope your marriage goes smoothly.”

And with that, the two parted ways. Makoto found himself abruptly accosted by several finely dressed servant girls, who were more than happy to lead him to the baths and help him prepare for his meeting with Prince Rin.

The bathing itself took longer than Makoto would have liked—not because the delicious warmth of the water eased away all his aches and pains and turned his mind to jelly. No, the bath took longer because the servant girls insisted that he pick a scented ointment to be anointed with before seeing Prince Rin. There were so many ointments to choose from, Makoto wondered whether Prince Rin had been trained specifically to recognize every scent in the known world.

After sampling many, Makoto finally chose sandalwood, and the servant girls helped him dress in a green robe with gold stripes down the side, and a golden turban. The clothes were thankfully easy to move in (and the simple jade necklace didn’t chafe at his neck), and so Makoto could socialize without any distractions.

The servant girls politely led him to the private dining hall, while excitedly asking Makoto if he had seen the oasis beyond the capital walls (he hadn’t, sadly) and chattered to themselves about Princess Gou and her husband’s various pet names for her. Makoto was too nervous to attend to their chatter.

When they reached the private dining hall, the servant girls left Makoto to enter on his own. Makoto’s heart pounded harshly in his chest as his sweaty hands fumbled with the doorknob. He opened the door with barely a sound.

And there was Prince Rin, appearing regal despite sitting on a simple wood chair. His maroon hair was clearly washed recently and his ruby eyes looked invitingly at Makoto, bread and salt awaiting him. His turban was blood-red and decorated with a gold circlet to hold it in place. He seemed fond of gold—gold necklaces, gold bangles, gold earrings—but his shirt, pants and shoes were jet black.

Makoto bowed deeply to Prince Rin and straightened up again, walking rather stiffly over to his place at the long, highly-polished wood table and sat at Prince Rin’s side.

“How was your journey, Makoto?” asked Prince Rin, his voice commanding but friendly. Suddenly confused, Makoto found himself staring at very white, very sharp-looking teeth.

 _He_ does _file them_ , he thought to himself, unsure whether to be amused, horrified, or both. And…

“It was uneventful, my liege. I was blessed with a pleasant fellow traveler, who may have been scarred, as his face was veiled. And one could only see his eyes.” Makoto said, tearing his gaze away from the sharp teeth and back to Prince Rin’s eyes.

Looking away, Prince Rin said casually, “Good. And far better than the assassination planned for you _en route_ by my ‘advisors’,” his tone suggested discussion of a guest’s planned assassination was completely acceptable dinner conversation.

“…What?” Makoto asked, unsure if his fiancé was joking or not.

“Yes, you were to be murdered in the dunes,” Prince Rin said, pouring Makoto a goblet of cool, clear water. “They weren’t to know about our wedding, or my own travel plans, because that is exactly what would have happened. Good choice of ointment, by the way.”

“…Thank you?” was all Makoto could think of to say.

“Your welcome. Eat…as much as you want.”

Makoto was indeed hungry as he began to pile food on his plate: steaming white rice, roasted chicken dusted with saffron, and sweet, rich baklava. Though the food was delicious, all he could think was “murdered in the dunes”, over and over.

“Also,” Prince Rin said, after taking a sip of water, “if any of the Nobles ask you to spy on me, say yes.”

“Why?” Makoto asked with a mouth full of chicken. His manners were quite forgotten after such an abrupt request.

“One of the Nobles is stealing from the treasury, and I need to know who it is…”

“I see.” Makoto began to wonder just what he was getting himself into. “Er, so, when will the wedding be?”

“A few days from now.” Prince Rin looked at him with a playful grin. “Eager?”

Makoto found himself trying to nod and shake his head at the same time, and felt rather embarrassed. Prince Rin didn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t worry,” said Prince Rin, holding up a canteen and pouring fresh water into his goblet. “I will protect you.”

Makoto watched the red tassel swing lazily from the canteen neck, and abruptly realized just how “Nantoka” knew all those rumors about the Matsuoka family.

Prince Rin lazily raised his glass in salute to Makoto, his grin sly. “I hope you enjoy politics and intrigue.”


End file.
